


Those You've Known

by veolaldez



Category: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M, Nico-centric, The Burning Maze Spoilers, and nico is smellchior gabor except not Like That you know, apparently the PJO fandom likes to make spring awakening jokes now, hows this for a fuckin sa joke u goddamn animals, leo in an 1890s style nightgown belting I BELIEEEVE, mentions of abuse, no beta read bc i like to live dangerously, past sex mentioned, pretty intense suicidal ideation, while jason is like still u know to trust ur own tru mind nico
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 05:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14537508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veolaldez/pseuds/veolaldez
Summary: Those you've know and lost still walk behind youAll alone, their song still seems to find youHe must be going crazy with grief. That was Jason Grace right there, sitting on the ledge of his own tomb, in a ghastly blue light.





	Those You've Known

Graveyards, contrary to popular belief, were among Nico’s least favorite places. However, he found himself still wandering among the headstones on this night, tuning out the noises of the dead that he was all too used to. It was particularly restless tonight among the souls, it seemed. There were so many new, fresh ones from the recent war. That’s why he was here, after all. To get them all under control in the way only the king of the ghosts himself could. The fact that he knew none of these people personally helped the process, but that didn’t necessarily make him any happier about it. How could anyone be happy, listening to the cries and wails of the freshly deceased? How could anyone be happy hearing their words of anguish and pain, echoing through the field cleared for them? 

Nico felt enough pain without all of that. He was numb to it, especially now. He kept a scowl on his face and focused on getting the damned souls back into the underworld and sealing them in there. 

“Nico di Angelo, aren’t you the one who’s nice to the dead?” He heard the ghost of one Athena camper. He ignored it.  
“He’s mad because-”  
“Silence.” He commanded, before anything more could be said. The ghastly figures went silent. Nico huffed, and went back to the tedious work. As the ghosts cleared, the air got a little warmer. Not by much, but the difference was at least noticeable. 

By the time he had finished his job, he stared over the seemingly clear graveyard. He was tired, he wanted to go to bed even if he knew he wouldn’t get much real sleep, but he felt it was his duty to at least pay respects now. The amount of fresh graves was still overwhelming, though. He’d be here all night, perhaps, but he figured he would be up all night anyway regardless. Sleep never came easy to him, but it especially didn’t anymore. Would he ever fall asleep easily? He wondered that frequently, but didn’t know if he ever really wanted the answer. 

Dark eyes scanned over the fresh headstones as he stood, frozen in front of the rows of them. A chilly wind swept over him, causing him to pull his jacket tighter around him. It was so cold, so, so cold, but Nico dreaded feeling the warmth again. He didn’t want to feel the warmth and _remember._ He wasn’t ready to remember. He didn’t think he would ever be ready to remember. No, he was more than willing to stay in the cold, dark, blue night forever. Like this, taming the dead when another would fall. Or maybe he would go back to the Underworld and help his father. Surely, it had to be tiring to deal with all the dead single handedly… he just needed to be away. Away where he wouldn’t feel this bleak emptiness anymore. Away where he wouldn’t get so attached to the warmth of another person, only to have them ripped from him by the pitch black hands of death. 

He made his way down the line slowly, with shaking hands. 

Angelica Brown, Demeter. Henry Graham, Athena. Dorian Reed, Hecate. One by one, Nico kneeled before the graves and muttered words of thanks, for the lives they had given for the greater good. After each solemn thank you, an eerie sort of peace began to fall over the graveyard. By the end of the line, the son of Hades felt strangely calm. The same dismal and empty feeling still pitted in his stomach, but it wasn’t as loud as it had been moments ago. When he gave the rows one more look, the sight of the bundles of flowers and whatnot from other very much alive campers nearly made him smile. 

What time was it? It had to be well past midnight. 

He gave what he thought would be his last look over the graveyard, but stopped when he saw an all too familiar grave, much more aged than the other ones. A few years old, covered with dead flowers. Bianca’s grave, that he paid far too many visits to. Next to it, there was another fresh grave. Despite his better judgement, he approached the two graves. His heart pounded so loud that it was as if his heart had just risen right to his head. It was all he could hear. Maybe it was because otherwise, it was so quiet. There wasn’t anything else _to_ hear other than the erratic beating. (Had his thoughts not been racing, he might have made some Edgar Allan Poe joke.)

 

Upon reaching Bianca’s weathered grave, Nico stopped. He didn’t want to look at the one next to it. A feeling of deep-rooted dread as to what he knew the headstone beside it said made him want to throw up. It was almost too much, to have these two graves next to each other. Whoever was in charge this did it on purpose, clearly. Maybe they had meant well, but it still shattered Nico’s heart into a million pieces. 

The image of a warm smile filled his mind. First the smile, and then the dimples, and then the splash of freckles across a pointed button nose, and then the wide, lively brown eyes of some crazy genius. 

The feeling of warm, work-worn hands on his ached like a fresh wound in his memory. 

No, he didn’t want to remember. But it was so hard not to. 

It was hard to not to remember the sleepless nights on the deck of the Argo II, occupied by listening to the rapid-fire rambling trains of thought. He was philosophical, really, and he didn’t even realize it. Under the light of the stars, feeling the tension building when he would stop talking, tension that made him feel like something was pushing his hand towards the one lingering less than half a centimeter away from his own. And when the small space did fill? It felt like a little victory. The tension was still there, but eased just a little bit. That tension would build and build, night after night, of just talking and flirting and getting to know that boy who he had previously found so irritating. 

It was hard to not remember when he found out the little things, like how his favorite kind of jackets were army jackets, or how his favorite musicals were Spring Awakening and Rent, or how the ring was on his right nostril because that’s how his mama had hers, or how he used to befriend stray cats when he lived out on the streets. Gods, when he found that out- that he ran away and lived on the streets. Nico wanted to do everything he could to keep that from ever happening again. He wanted that boy to have a warm place to stay for forever. He wanted him to have a home. Maybe he wanted to be a part of that home, but that wasn’t the detail he dwelled on. As long as he was safe and happy, Nico was happy. 

Nico felt the tears in his eyes when he remembered seeing the tears in that angel boy’s eyes when he woke up after finally having dozed off from a nightmare. “I’m fine,” He would insist with shaking shoulders and erratic breaths before breaking. Slowly, until he was holding his face in his hands so Nico wouldn’t see him crying, and wouldn’t see how humiliated he looked over the fact that he was crying and panicking in front of someone. No matter how hard he tried, that was a memory he could never shake as long as he lived. Now, whenever he would hear the the sound of ocean waves in the night, he wouldn’t be able to get the thought of hearing about the shop fire, hearing about the cruel words of family, hearing about how an entirely undeserving and kind soul was pushed into the hands of the system, who in turn, pushed him into the clutches of unkind fists. 

Nico held him that night. That was the first time he truly held him. The disbelief never really left him, even now, standing on the boys grave. What did Leo Valdez ever, _ever_ do to deserve this? He couldn’t help but think that maybe Leo did want to die, maybe he’d been too willing to sacrifice himself for a reason. He couldn’t blame him, really. Nico could help him all he wanted, he could hold him and love him and tell him he’s beautiful and deserved all the stars in the sky and all the flowers on the earth and all the crystals in the ground… but that wouldn’t erase the years of nightmare after nightmare or the hands and knifelike words of school bullies giving him black eyes and bloody noses and the foster parents telling him he would never amount to anything and was worthless. 

Leo had been told from a young age he was worthless, unlovable, broken, an error, and Nico, try as he may, couldn’t save him from the fact that the ideas were hammered into his brain. 

It shattered Nico’s heart beyond words to think that this was his way of suicide, but he knew he couldn’t rule it out. What a way to go. Saving the world. Leo was a hero. 

The fact that no one left flowers on his grave made Nico indescribably furious. With hot tears streaming down his cheeks, he collapsed on his knees in front of the headstone. All it said was Leo’s name, and that he was the seventh demigod of the prophecy.

“No,” He found himself saying out loud. 

“No!” No one could hear him out here anyway. 

“No! God damn it!” 

He sobbed unapologetically. The memories were the waves and his tears were the tsunami. 

He looked up at the moon and remembered the first time they kissed. Nico had been plagued by his dreams of Tartarus, and Leo had been, of course, out on the deck. It took him less than an hour to get Nico laughing. It was like magic- Leo was like magic. Some sort of weird, crazy magic. He may not have known the right words when it came to the crying, but he was there, and that’s what mattered the most to Nico. He was there to hug Nico and wipe away his tears until he could breathe normally. Then, he’d crack the corniest joke or pick up line he could think of. 

They had been under the full moon, like the moon tonight. It was almost like the beams from the moonlight were pushing them together, after Leo had oh-so-solemnly muttered _“Are you a parking ticket? ‘Cause you’ve got fine written all over you.”_

It was a quick, chaste kiss and Nico had been the one to initiate it. It was too hard to resist that hopeful face and warm smile, looking up at him and trying to cheer him up, and he supposed it was in his nature as a demigod to be impulsive. Leo was cute when he was flustered, but Nico only got to see the surprised look for a moment before warm and calloused fingertips were pulling him down for another one, a slower one, a real kiss.

Where was Leo’s ghost? Did he get sent down while Nico wasn’t even paying attention? That made him sob even harder. 

He would plant a garden on this grave. Without magical help. It’s what Leo deserved. It would grow and bloom as spectacularly and gorgeously as he would have if he only had the time. 

 

 _ **—「 months later 」—**_

Here he was again, in the graveyard. There were no untamed souls to cram into the Underworld, but Nico couldn’t seem to avoid the death of those close to him, apparently. 

The flowers he planted over his late lovers grave were beginning to grow in the early spring. Small patches of uneven and turned soil marked where he had buried letters into the ground for him. Was it pathetic to write love letters to a dead boy? Maybe. Nico hadn’t even checked to see if he was in Elysium or Asphodel. He had to be in Elysium, with his mother. 

He still felt the pit in his stomach when he remembered how he had never said goodbye. He never had a chance to talk to him. Leo’s spirit would never come. He never heard of Leo being reincarnated, so he didn’t understand why he couldn’t seem to reach him… 

Nico knelt down on one knee by the small garden and bowed his head. “Il mio amore...” He muttered as he pressed his hand to the ground, holding still for a moment before standing again, eyes lingering on the ground there for a moment before turning, and seeing the large stone tomb, scattered with flowers and blessings. 

_In honor and memory of Jason Grace,_ it read. _Former praetor of the Twelfth Legion and Hero of Olympus. Son of Jupiter, who gave his light to all he met._

Another undeserving death. Jason Grace was set to have a full life, to become a priest of the gods, to guide young demigods and grow old and pass peacefully after all he went through. But instead, he lie in the tomb, having sacrificed himself so Piper wouldn’t have to die. A true noble Roman. He deserved all the celebrations of his life, even if he was a little bitter over the fact Leo hadn’t gotten the same treatment. 

The familiar feeling of an emptiness in his stomach and tears in his eyes was too strong to ignore. The deja vu of crying at a gravesite under the light of a full moon was deeply painful. Nico wanted to just curl up and sink into the dirt and join them. He’d see Leo’s warm eyes and hear Jason’s kind words again. He’d be safe. He’d be content. He wouldn’t be pitifully sobbing over and over again between the graves of his loved ones. Or perhaps this was just the curse of being the descendant of Hades. Maybe everyone he loved was destined to die. Maybe he really should go, and seclude himself and never form such close bonds again. Maybe he should go help his father in the Underworld permanently. No one else would die. He’d never have to deal with this tragic scenario that he had grown so used to again. 

He should just die. 

What did he have left anyway? Reyna could do without him. Hazel could visit in the Underworld whenever she wanted. He cursed everyone he got close to with death.

His skin tingled. He sobbed despite no tears even coming out anymore. He felt like he would throw up any minute now if he didn’t feel so absolutely empty. Nico’s mind was blank and buzzing at the same time. The future looked desolate. It wasn’t cold out, but he was shivering like a leaf. 

His sword was in his pocket. He could just take it out and do it and get it over with. If that didn’t work, he had a backup dagger in his belt. 

Everyone was born to die anyway, right? 

Demigods were cursed to die young anyway, right? 

His arms ached and he could feel every pulse in his body. He had never wanted to die so bad. Everything in him was screaming so loudly to take his weapons and drown in a pool of his own blood. He didn’t even consider it selfish anymore. He had no reason to be here. None at all. 

A familiar voice spoke softly, but it hushed the roars of his thoughts. 

“Nico…” 

He must be going crazy with grief. 

That was Jason Grace right there, sitting on the ledge of his own tomb, in a ghastly blue light. 

“Nico, I know you can hear me.” The ghost said as he approached the son of Hades. “Come on, I got a spear through the chest and I don’t even get a hello?” That made Nico come out of his own head enough to chuckle dryly, hollowly. “Jason,” He started. “Fancy seeing you here. Like your tomb?” 

“It’s a bit much, honestly.” Jason admitted, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish, sad smile. He was still exactly the same, but instead wore the robes he was buried in and, obviously, was a ghost.  
“Fair. But you were important. You- you deserve it.” Nico said as he wiped his tears away on his arm, still sniffling.  
“So did Leo.” Nico felt like he cracked when he heard the name. “I’m glad to see the garden is growing. We had a good time working on that, huh? Just like he would have wanted. You, me, Hazel, Piper, Frank, Percy, Annabeth… the whole gang was there.” The ghost of Jason looked up at the stars, with a faint smile as he reminisced on that day. “Hazel gathered stones for all of us. You left that rose quartz when we all thought you’d leave a smokey one. We all wrote little letters and buried them there with him. Do the dead get letters? Is that a thing?” It was amazing how Jason could talk about such a tragic time and make it seem so happy. 

Nico thought about it for a moment. You’d think, as much as he did it, that he would know a thing or two about it. “If they haven’t been reborn. I suppose it’s possible.” 

“You guys won’t need to write letters to me. I think I’ll join the ghosts around New Rome. Kinda weird how I was buried here though, isn’t it?”

“They wanted you to be part of both camps. Y-you always said you belonged to both. So they gave you a roman burial here.”  
“Well, that sure is nice of them!” He somehow smiled wider. “How’s Piper doing?”  
“Destroyed, but she’s… she’s getting better. With you and Leo gone, she’s been spending a lot more time with her siblings when she’s at camp and her dad when she’s not. That’s what I heard from her, at least… We never really talked much until…”  
“Look at me, Nico.” 

The request was sudden, but Nico slowly raised his head to look Jason in the face. Maybe not in the eye, but it was close enough. 

“You have to keep going. They can’t handle another death, Nico.” 

Nico was silent. 

“They need you here.” 

Still silent. 

Jason was silent too, just looking at him with a sad gaze, until glancing behind his friend. “Someone wants to see you.” 

Every muscle in Nico’s body froze, aside from the increasingly loud beat of his own heart, as he felt a welcoming warmth behind him. His dark eyes widened, and Jason motioned for him to turn around. And so, he did, knowing fully well what would be found upon doing so. 

Sitting against his headstone, looking down at the buds of the flowers, was Leo Valdez himself, encased in a ghostly, pale orange light. Nico nearly forgot how to breathe. His hands began to shake as the new ghost looked up at him. Those big eyes weren’t nearly as vivid and vibrant as they had been when Leo was alive, but they were still just as beautiful.  
“Leo.”  
The ghost smiled at him. “Finally, I get a little attention around here.”  
“Why… Why didn’t you- How-” Nico couldn’t find his words, but Leo seemed to get the message. 

“I wanted you to forget me and move on.” 

Nico didn’t know how to respond to that with anything more than a snort. His world would forever be colored with the bronze hues of his skin and the brown glimmer in his eyes and the dots of his freckles and the red and orange and yellow tones of his flames. 

And he wanted Nico to forget him. 

“I, for one, hoped you would remember me.” Jason chimed in. “But not in a bad way. In like, a good friend way. That whole ‘always with you’ thing, you know?” 

Nico wanted to hug both of them. He probably could. If he wanted to, he could probably give Jason a bear hug and hold Leo in his arms and kiss him senseless. A bittersweet perk at best of being the King of the ghosts. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t make himself move. 

“It seems so dismal now, doesn’t it?” Jason spoke up again, when Leo seemed to not know what to say. “But think of it. You can talk to us whenever you want. You know that.” 

Nico did know that. 

“We’re always with you. Literally. You’re the son of Hades. You’re the Ghost King. That’s not always a bad thing. We’ll always be walking behind you, Nico.” 

Fuck Jason and how right he always was. Nico was still silent. Leo finally started talking again. Dead Leo was so much quieter than living Leo, he noticed. 

“I miss you a whole lot, you know. It hurt like a bitch to not come when you kept trying to talk to me. But I just… thought it was better, I guess. Those notes, though. Those are cute. And the garden? Jeez, dude. You really really know how to spoil a dead boyfriend.” Leo snickered at the end of that. “Candles? Roses? Really settin’ the mood, babe. Too bad we didn’t have all those when we exchanged V-cards.”

Nico managed to smile. Maybe they hadn’t had candles with aphrodisiac scents and a rosewater bath, there was no shortage of magic when he heard the broken moans and swears and the _’yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, Nico, please’_ from Leo, who looked so breathtaking under him with his cheeks flushed and his back arched when Nico would love him just right. He could nearly feel the nails on his back again. (He was pretty sure he had a faint scar from it, actually.)

“I died with like, three hickies. Hope your happy. Mama saw them and everything. They’re there for the rest of eternity now.” 

Leo saw his mom? 

Jason made a face. “No offense, but I really don’t need the dirty details. I didn’t even know you guys were a thing until after Leo…” 

Jason didn’t need to finish that sentence. 

“You saw her?” Nico finally managed to speak. Leo smiled impossibly wider. “I did. She’s in Elysium. I knew she would be.” He looked so warm. Healthy. Was he happier like this?

There was a long moment of silence. Nico took deep breaths, and felt tears beginning to fall down his cheeks again, and then felt a warmth touching his cheek. “Damn. I can’t make the tear go away. But I can touch you, which is good news. Does that make me a poltergeist?” 

“No, that makes me able to interact with ghosts.” Nico joked dryly. 

“Glad to know Nico is still Nico.” Jason let out a breath of a laugh. Both ghosts looked back to the garden. 

“Spring is returning.” Nico stated as he too turned to look at it. “It’ll grow, hopefully. I found out what flowers they usually used in Day of The Dead celebrations. I thought… maybe that would be a…”  
“It’s perfect. That’s- that’s really thoughtful, babe.” Leo looked down at the bunches of- “Cempasuchil. Chrysanthemums. No Gladiolus? You’ve done me dirty.”  
“The roses were my touch, though. I just thought it looked nice. Red roses mean eternal love too, apparently. The Gladiolus looked too… solemn. You’re not a solemn person.”  
“I never thought I’d see you care so much about flowers.” Jason said as he sat down next to the two with his legs crossed.  
“Eternal love.” Leo repeated what Nico had previously said about the roses. “I sure hope you get over me.”  
Nico frowned. “Why?”  
“Because I’m dead. And there are plenty of alive people who-”  
“Don’t say that, Leo.” Hades’ son shook his head. “Don’t. I can’t just… I can’t. No.”  
“I was just a first love. There’s no need-”  
“No. Leo, Gods, you weren’t just a first love.” Nico looked Leo’s ghost right in the eyes. He was still so beautiful… he reached out and touched his cheek.

“Is there even a way...?” Jason averted his eyes as he spoke, not wanting to intrude too much. “To be together, I mean. With you being the prince of the Underworld and all.” 

Nico hadn’t even considered that amongst all his grieving. Was there a way? 

“Maybe there was a reason I didn’t go anywhere.” Leo pointed out as he laid out in the grass. “Everything happens for a reason, you know. I think that, at least.” 

That surely gave Nico something to think about. Maybe there was. It would make sense, now that he was thinking about it. 

“Trust your own true mind, Nico.” Jason rested a ghastly hand on Nico’s shoulder. “If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.” 

“Hey, Jason,” He turned his attention away from Leo for the moment. “Those temples you wanted to build. I’m gonna make sure those happen.” 

That made Jason grin. “Really? You really don’t have to.”  
“But I’m going to. And you,” He turned to Leo again. “Let me sleep on it, okay?”  
“You got it, your majesty. I’ll just play grass chess with Jason again until you come decide to take me as your Ghost Queen.”  
“Does that make me second in command?”  
Nico laughed. It was a small laugh, but he still laughed. 

He really would walk with them forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Should I write some sister fics for "Don't Do Sadness/Blue Wind" for Jason and Piper and "Whispering" for Leo and maaaybe "The Song Of Purple Summer" for something happy regarding this? Vote now on ur phones 
> 
> i'm just glad i finally have an excuse to mix my favorite musical of all time and my main fandom lmao. Also! I love comments! Please leave them!


End file.
